“I do not understand,” I answered and held on tighter to Rider’s wrists. “I needed to marry him.”
“They—Brother Stephen, Sister Ruth, Solomon and Samson—couldn’t see that happen. We all saw what this wedding was doing to you. It was killing you inside. None of us could see you sacrifice yourself. My brother . . . he would have hurt you. And even if you could have taken it. I couldn’t. We couldn’t.” Rider closed his eyes. “This was the plan we devised the night they discovered who I was. I can get to people who can help us. Because we cannot do this alone. We need to get help . . . without destroying you in the process.”
I saw in his eyes that he was just as conflicted as me at leaving them. “Rider,” I rasped, the tears already clogging my throat. “Whoever will help us out of this mess? The authorities Brother Stephen talked of?”
Rider’s hands on my cheeks tightened just a fraction. “No. The people that Judah fears most.”
At first I could not think who that could be. Then the prophet’s teachings played in my mind. The sermons he preached through the speakers for all the commune to hear. “The devil’s men,” I whispered. Rider nodded his head once. “To rid ourselves of the prophet we must walk through hell?” I asked, trying to build the courage to face such men.
Rider stared at me for what felt like an eternity. “I fear we have already been living in hell, baby.” Rider’s jarring words halted my breath. “We have to go, now,” Rider said and went to turn away.
Just before he did, I pulled on his wrist until he was facing me. His eyebrows were pulled into a frown. He watched me, worry in his gaze. I stepped closer, once, twice, until I was right before him. “We are married,” I said in an awed whisper. I glanced down at my left hand in his, simple matching golden rings on our ring fingers. I ran my thumb over Rider’s band and looked up into his eyes. He was already watching me, eyes glistening. “In the eyes of our people, we are man and wife for eternity. And we are celestially joined. You and I . . .”
Rider did not speak. I watched as he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. My heart increased in its pace as I feared that what I felt—the heady lightness of happiness fluttering in my heart—was not reciprocated. That it was simply for the sake of the plan.
Just as I was about to pull my hand from Rider’s, he backed me up against the vehicle again. My heart beat for an entirely different reason now. It was all due to the strange look in Rider’s intense gaze. As if his dark irises were lit with fire, a burning hunger in their depths.
I opened my mouth, willing myself to speak. But Rider’s hands landed on my face, and his mouth crashed down to mine. I was stunned, breathless, as Rider’s mouth devoured mine—passionate, desperate and filled with so much desire that my legs shook where I stood. My hands moved to his chest, trying to hold on tight to the new feel of being taken in such a way. The movement only urged Rider on. His tongue dueled with mine, so dominant yet so gentle and soft at the same time. My body felt alive with light and flames, so much so that my chest ached and I had to clench my legs together as a now-familiar feeling gathered at my core.
Finally, Rider pulled back, resting his forehead on mine as we both searched for lost breath. Our chests rose up and down in a frantic rhythm. When our starved lungs had finally found a reprieve, Rider ran his thumb down my arm to my wedding band. “I want you, Harmony. Right now I can’t fucking believe you’re my wife. That we . . . that you were my first. That I just had you like that . . .” He drew his head back, and brushing his lips against my mouth, said, “So fucking beautiful and perfect. And mine. Truly mine, in every way.” I closed my eyes, relieved that he wanted me too. “But I don’t deserve you. Not even one little bit.”
My eyes opened. I wanted to correct him, tell him that he deserved me more than anyone ever could, but he was already walking toward the vehicle. He opened the door. “Get in, baby, we need to go.”
I wondered why he kept calling me ‘baby’. I had never heard such a term used toward a grown woman, yet I recognized endearment in his tone.
Baby.
Trusting that Rider knew what he was doing, I got into the vehicle, and Rider slid into the driver’s seat. As he started the engine, he kept all the lights off. We sat in darkness. Rider took a deep breath. I watched him as his eyes closed and his lips seemed to tighten. Something had him troubled; he looked nervous, maybe even fearful. It made me feel fear too.
The devil’s men.
I had no idea who they were. But then I thought of Rider’s images on his arms and it began to make sense. He knew these men. He knew them well.
I took one of his hands in mine. Rider turned to me and I offered him a watery smile. He sighed; he knew that I had picked up on his fear.
Rider brought my hand to his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to the vanilla-scented skin. He pulled out onto the road and led us away from the prison that had held us for far too long. I didn’t let go of his hand as we traveled along the dark twisting roads.
I did not let go of his hand as I felt something dark stirring in my stomach. As I let Rider lead me into the den of evil, something in my heart told me that only pain of the worst kind awaited us at its gates.
So I kept holding on.
I vowed to hold on to my new husband with everything that I was.
I vowed to never let him go.
Chapter Eleven
Rider